


Pour your Soul onto these Paper Slips

by Rehlia



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Crushes, Drabble, Flirting, M/M, N-Ice - Freeform, N-Ice shipping, Nicewolf - Freeform, Nicewolf shipping, Pining, if there's already a name for this ship please tell me, rarepair, rareship, side characters, trashy makes up her first shipname
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2016-10-20
Packaged: 2018-08-23 15:36:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8333029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rehlia/pseuds/Rehlia
Summary: Nicey flirts with Icey and puts all the compliments he uses onto his Nice Cream wrappers.
The rarepair nobody asked for but got anyway.





	

“Are those claws natural?” He asks the wolf in front of him, who has stopped lifting and throwing blocks of ice for a short break.

No more than five minutes, that is all the Core can take before it overheats, five minutes once every hour for a six hour shift of hard, physical work, before one of the bears comes and takes over for the next six hour shift. Two wolves and two bears cover the four shifts each day. It's gruelling. He has no idea how they can take it, his own body is far too skinny for something like that. He's glad he's doing something less tiring with his Nice Cream.

But he does like to watch. 

“Sure are!” The wolf says, leaning against the fence that separates the work area from the path. The wolf lifts a large bottle of water and drinks, long deep drags while his chest heaves from the exertion. The muscles of the wolf's chest and stomach expand and contract with each breath and each gulp of water, rolling underneath his dark, shaggy fur. He can't stop staring at the sight. 

“You've come here often over the last couple of days,” the wolf says, tilting his head and turning it into a question with that. 

“It's my own break around this time,” he tells the wolf, “and I wanted to try something new. See new sights, meet new people!” That is true at least. Meeting new people means new conversations, and those are always his best inspiration for new compliments to write into the wrappers of his Nice Cream. 

One compliment per paper wrapper, written is his neatest handwriting with all his heart put into it, so the monster opening it will get not only the sweet treat but also the warmth and joy of a genuine compliment written with feeling. 

“Glad to have met you, then,” the ice wolf says. A whistle sounds from behind the wolf, and with an apologetic shrug he returns to his work. 

He watches for a short while longer before he returns to his own work. Later that evening, he puts the compliment of the day onto a wrapper. Are those claws natural? Not every monster has claws of course, but it's the sentiment that counts. The feelings he experienced while saying it and the joy of hearing the response, all poured onto the paper.

He returns to visit the ice wolf the following day, and the day after that, and the day after that, and every time he leaves with a new compliment having been spoken, to be used on a new wrapper that evening.

You look nice today! Have a wonderful day! You're super spiffy! Is this as sweet as you? You're just great! 

Each day, a new compliment. The ice wolf starts to smile when he sees him. That's exciting, he can feel a funny lurch in his stomach every time that happens, and he immediately grins back, his long bunny ears flopping half over in a flirty position. He can't control it. Does the ice wolf know what this position of his ears means? He hopes he does, he hopes he doesn't, he doesn't know if he wants the ice wolf to know.

He came a bit earlier today and watches the ice wolf at work, those thick, hard muscles moving, straining under the load of the ice blocks without ever faltering. Some of them are thicker than his entire body. Sweat gathers on the shaggy fur of the wolf, slicking it and giving it a wet, shiny appearance. He faintly smells musk and wet fur and something sharp and wild. Intoxicating.

The whistle blows and the conveyor belt carrying the ice stops. The ice wolf trots over with a grin on his large maw, grabbing his water bottle. 

“Coming by today too, I see. Still not bored by this shaggy old sack of fur?” The ice wolf laughs good naturedly at his own self-deprecation before swinging the water bottle back to drink in deep, long gulps. The muscles on his neck flex with the movement. 

“Don't say that, love yourself! Someone out there might love you, too!”

“Like who?” The wolf asks with a hearty chuckle, lowering his water bottle. “You?” 

“Sure,” he says with a wink and a smile. The wolf can take it as flirting, or as joking around, but in any case, it's out there. He feels himself blush a little bit, his floppy ears once more assuming a position that means attraction, flirting, invitation. 

The wolf looks at him in surprise and lets out a booming laugh that coincides with the whistle signalling the end of his break. He gives the whistle a guilty glance.

And then the wolf pulls him into a quick, strong hug over the fence. He feels himself pressed against those thick bulging muscles, can feel them shift against his own slim body, feels sweaty, shaggy fur bristle against his own smooth blue hairs, smells musk and wet dog and hot breath, hears laughter rumble through the massive wolf body. 

He can feel his face heat up and curiously finds himself wondering what colour his fur makes his blush look like. He has never blushed before.

The hug is over far too quick, the wolf has to return to his shift after all, and the heat of the wolf body is abruptly replaced by the icy air of northern Snowdin Town. 

He stares at the ice wolf like an idiot as the rhythm of pick up ice, turn, throw ice starts again, muscles moving and breath heaving. 

Wow.

Well, he got his compliment for the wrapper and oh man, he got even more on top. A bonus. Something unexpected and special that's burning his insides like a bonfire, as if Grillby decided to open up a branch store in his gut. 

Maybe it's weird that that's the first thing he thinks about, but he has to find a way to put _that_ on a wrapper somehow.


End file.
